


Just a Dream

by KuroRiya



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Kind of a songfic, M/M, Romance, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-14
Updated: 2013-07-14
Packaged: 2017-12-20 05:06:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/883279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuroRiya/pseuds/KuroRiya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A oneshot, based VERY LOOSELY on Just a Dream By Carrie Underwood. Tino's life, from the day he got married, to the day he got some terrible news, all seemed like a dream, but reality is usually crazier than any dream you could have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Dream

“Fin? Are ya ready fer bed?” A large Swedish male called to his roommate, who was just turning off the laptop that had been burning his thighs, signaling that it needed to have a break before it completely overheated. The Finnish male smiled softly at the familiar nickname, turning to face the tall man that had spoken it.  
“Yes, I'm coming, just a second. I'm going to go put the computer up, so it can charge for the night.”  
With that, the small blonde worked his way into the designated living area, laptop in tow, and plugged it into its charger, leaving it on the wooden coffee table. He smiled fondly as he thought of the person who had crafted it, the same Swede that was calling him to bed. Looking around, it dawned on him how much of his home was centered around the taller male. Almost all of the furniture had been hand crafted by the talented giant, the small Fin having only made purchases on the electronics. If it could be built, then the Swede would build it.  
Running his fingers deftly over the smooth surfaces of the hand polished wood that made up the majority of his living room, the Finn let the smallest of frowns grace his features. Something had been bothering him, something that he couldn't get out of his mind, a single, burning question that refused to allow him rest. But this conversation that he was steeling himself to bring up was definitely not going to be easy to talk about with the already quiet Swede. Still, he would not let this one fade to the background; This was important!   
That thought in mind, he walked back to the bedroom that he had just left, finding the Swede waiting with a steaming mug. The smell of a heavy chocolate, with just a tiny hint of cinnamon, and the natural sweetener that The Finnish blonde loved, honey. The sweet scent that saturated the air was enough to greatly calm the young man's nerves, and he smiled gratefully as he took the offered beverage.  
“Thank you! You always know how to put me right to sleep!” He cooed to the other, almost lovingly. It was no secret what feelings the taller blonde had the shorter, but it was always uncertain if the feelings were returned. Slowly, over the years of knowing the other, the Finn had indeed grown to love him, though he was slow to admit to it. Love was always an easy thing to give, but never easy to recover from when it went wrong.   
“Ah hope so, after livin' with ya fer three years.” The Swede countered, a tinge of humor lacing the words, making the shorter sigh.  
“It really has been a while, hasn't it? Ever since we left Mathias' house. I can't believe I was only just sixteen! It seems like so long ago! And I always used to worry that the police would come and get me because I was so young!” The Finn cried dramatically, taking sips of the hot chocolate as he spoke.  
“Ja. But yer old 'nough now, they can' say 'nything.” The Swede assured, sitting on the edge of the bed.  
“Yes... It feels strange to be eighteen... I imagined that it would quite different than being seventeen, but I really don't feel any different... Perhaps I am feeling a little bit more freedom, but nothing too drastic.” He confided quietly, contemplating it deeply with his companion.  
“There are a lo' of things ya can do now tha' ya couldn' before?” The taller tried, but only succeeded in making the Finn chuckle.  
“Yes, I suppose so. Things like voting, owning a house, marriage...” He trailed, and didn't miss the way that the taller shifted at the last word.  
“Ja.” Was his simple reply as he sat down his own mug, and gathered the Finn's as well. Despite how uncomfortable he had just made his roomate, the shorter followed him into the kitchen, and watched as he dropped the mugs into the sink.  
“...Berwald... I think we need to talk.” The small blonde finally announced, and the taller winced, but nodded. He sat at the kitchen table, also handmade, and waited for the Finn to join him. When he sat, he took a moment to gather his thoughts, then took a deep breath before starting.  
“You... Ever since we started living together, you insist on calling me your wife. I just don't know what to make of it, Berwald! At first I played it off as you just saw me as a household kind of figure, then I resolved myself to thinking that you intended to marry me. But just now, when I mentioned it, you didn't seem very excited. I am eighteen now, and, honestly Berwald, I do love you.” The Finn confessed, his face taking on a tint of pink, but his gaze held firm.  
“Fin... Tino... Ah...” Berwald started, cutting off, stuttering, all things very uncommon of the giant man. Tino sighed quietly, not oblivious to the surprise on the man's face.  
“I... I know that I never... Never really said anything... It's just harder for me to say things to people, especially embarrassing things like 'I love you'. So I've tried telling you with my actions, but you don't seem to get the hint. So I'm telling you now. I love you, Berwald. With all of my heart. And, were you ever to ask, I would marry you in a heart beat.” Tino concluded solidly, taking a deep breath, then getting up to go to bed. He had said his piece, the rest was up to Berwald.  
Said Swede was left, astonished, sitting at the table, wondering if he was dreaming. Surely Tino would never say something so perfect, so loving. Not even in his wildest of dreams... But then, sometimes reality can be much crazier than dreams... He got up, going to the small storage closet that the two had filled up through the years of sharing the home. Scanning the room quickly with bespectacled eyes, Berwald was pleased when he found the item he was searching for. Assessing the clutter on the floor, he picked his way to the small jewelry box, decorated in fashions of the 1800s. Making a small grunt of pride in having gotten to it in one piece, he reached out his fingers and opened the lid carefully. He had only ever opened this once in his life, when it was given to him several years ago, just two days after the death of his beloved parents. The scorch marks from the fire that claimed them still tarnished the small box, passed down to through the generations of his family for decades.   
As the lid creaked open with the force of his fingers, The tall man sighed, a little in sorrow, a little in awe. Inside the box was only a single piece of jewelry, though it would have outshone anything else that dared to exist in the same space. His mother's Engagement ring glittered, shades of sky blue and ivory white, the cut diamonds shining as if still brand new. Reveling in the remembrance of the parent long lost, the Swede removed the ring carefully, as if the metal would tarnish if he were to even think of handling it otherwise.  
Could he do this? Offer his most prized possession to his fantasy wife? Yes, he could, and he planned it. He was given a chance to make his fantasy a reality, his play-pretend wife could be his true wife, and all it required was a few words, and the ring he was now slipping into his pocket. The ring, made specially for his deceased mother, would finally get a chance to shine again, adorning his beloved's finger, complimented by a beautiful smile.

It was two weeks after the day he turned eighteen...

Tino smiled nervously at his friend, Lukas, as he was helped into his wedding clothes. Though he had refused to wear a dress, Berwald had been stern in saying that he wasn't allowed to wear a suit, because wives simply didn't do that. So he had instead opted for a long white tunic and a pair of powder blue pants, fitting to his legs tightly. Though simple, his attire was flattering, and he was decorated from head to toe in flowers and ribbons, having been scolded by Lukas by how plain he was.   
“That looks better now.” The older blonde, a Norwegian, commented in a monotone voice. “I feel almost bad for Berwald, what with how boring you're being! You always say I kill the fun, but you won't even humor your own wedding? I nearly had to fight you to get the veil on!” He accused harshly, tying another flower into the younger blonde's hair. Tino rolled his eyes, but smiled giddily.  
“It isn't a huge ceremony, Lukas! It's not like we need fancy things to say 'I do'! Besides, this is who Berwald wants to spend the rest of his life with, so this is who he's going to marry, not some dolled up brat!” Tino countered, bringing a small smile to the Norwegian's face.  
“Alright, alright, I won't push it anymore. Just remember, Berwald has been waiting for this for almost three years now. Try to be kind.” Lukas admonished quietly, finishing up his toying with the young Finn's appearance. Looking him over, he couldn't help but sigh wistfully.  
“So young...” He muttered quietly, shaking his head slowly. The Finnish boy winced a bit, but did his best to offer his friend a grin.  
“Yes, I've only been a technical adult for two weeks...” He began, and the Norwegian nodded. “But I grew up a lot faster than a lot of other people do. I think I'm ready for this... No, I know I am.” He declared proudly, though his cheeks took on a shade of pink. “I love him.” He announced, bringing the conversation to a decisive close. Lukas sighed, but complied, listening closely for the music that would cue their entrance. Silence still raining supreme, he turned back to his friend, who was now looking rather worried.  
“Tino? What's wrong?” He asked, wondering if the blonde was having second thoughts.  
“I... I just... I'm scared. Wh-What if I mess up? What if Berwald changes his mind? What would I do then? And I just...”  
“Tino, calm down! Would the two of you have gotten this far if you didn't love each other? Berwald is crazy about you, and he would NEVER change his mind. And who cares if you mess up? There are only about twenty people here in the first place, and none of them would even dare to say anything. Tino, this is going to be one of the most special days of your life. I know you're nervous, but don't let it get the better of you. You should be able to look back on this fondly. So buck up, it's almost time.” Lukas commanded, and Tino straightened up, visibly even. His friend was right! This was HIS special day, and he was damn well going to enjoy it! That was his right as a bride, wasn't it?  
He didn't get a chance to contemplate it further, as the music started, causing both boys to jump.  
“Oh, Tino, come on! We need to get outside!” The Norwegian instructed, herding the bride-to-be towards the door, then out to the beautiful church courtyard. Nerves were getting the better of the Finn, so he attempted to distract himself by taking in the decorations that he had not been able to see while preparing himself for what was about to come.  
There were arches, carved from fine stone, the color of pure ivory, though they were worn with age, and cracked with the intense effort of remaining erect and solid throughout the years they had been in use. The silky blue ribbons that hung from them in celebration of the momentous occasion seemed almost a contradiction, so pristine and new. Looking down, Tino found the petals of the white flowers that sprouted on the trees surrounding the small courtyard, replacing the flower-girls that the couple did not have by littering the walkway. Now the actual alter was coming into view, though everything was still too far for the Finn to really see. Simple figures and colors, black, whites, blues. The focus slowly registered as the two walked closer and closer, and faceless figures were reborn again and again, eventually finding a true existence in single individuals. Each face became familiar as it was seen, all guests being carefully chosen, only the closest of friends, each one smiling in joy at the creation of a new bond to be made today. And finally, as Tino was nearing the final arch he would have to pass through before an open air walk to the alter, Tino locked eyes with the one the one that was his journey's destination. Amethyst violet met with oceanic blue, only briefly, before faltering into a downcast glance, the Finn too overwhelmed to think correctly.

He put his veil down, trying to hide the tears, oh he just couldn't believe it... 

Tino began to appreciate his friend for his insistence that he at least wore the veil, as it was coming in very handy at the moment, doing wonders to cover the tears that were sliding down his face. Was this real? Was this a harsh dream that he would soon wake from, only to find himself alone and miserable? But the reality of the question was, even if that did turn out to be the truth, Tino would gladly take the disappointment in return for the wonderful ache he felt, tearing him up inside, centering on his heart. The dull ache was enough to give him reassurance that this was something he was truly experiencing, bringing the melancholy tears to his eyes. Something inside him was dying, something akin to freedom, but something infinitely better was being born from the ashes, something so wonderful that the teen couldn't even try to comprehend it, not now, likely never.  
The march began, the tune that forever accompanied lovestruck women, AND men, as they took the ever perilous walk down the aisle, hoping to find their way to the beloved person they have chosen. The person that they want to spend their lives with, or at least the person the THINK that they want to be with, though these things obviously didn't always work. But this didn't matter at the moment, all that mattered was that Tino was supposed to be trotting down the little path, up to his waiting Swede. He looked lovingly at the beautiful ring, wrapped snugly around his ring finger, going brilliantly with his chosen attire. The precious diamonds, once worn by the giants long deceased mother, seemed to smile, to encourage him to take that first step into his new life, and he needed no further prompting. Followed closely by Lukas, his 'Maid of Honor' so to speak, he began the slow but rigid trip to the alter.  
Step by step, beat by beat, tear by tear, and encouraging smile by encouraging smile, he made his way to where his future awaited him, trying his best to stop the ever present moisture from leaving his eyes, failing each time. Finally, with no more path to follow, the Fin looked up, and met with the oceanic storm that was Berwald's eyes yet again. Though the giant's face remained relatively unchanged, unemotional, the emotion swirling in the deep pools that were looking glasses into his soul proved how many thoughts and emotions were truly passing through the man's mind. Though it was only a fleeting glance, Tino took notice of the Dane standing opposite of Lukas, proudly claiming the title of 'Man of Honor'. The Finn would have scoffed at the thought, had he not been under so much stress at the moment, or distracted by his suited fiance before him. The dark, almost Navy colored suit flattered the man wonderfully, making Tino smile to himself, only slightly, before turning his attention to the kind looking preacher before them, expectant. All eyes were on the couple, standing, though very nervous and unsure of the future, happy.  
“Tino, ya look B'autiful.” Was the only thing the Swede had time to whisper, causing a tint to come to the teen's cheeks, thankfully hidden by the fabric of the veil.  
“Thank you.” Was all the Finn could muster. Not even a compliment could be returned, the boy's focus turning to the words he was about to say. Only two of them really meant anything to him, those being the infamous, 'I do'. But they meant so much more to him than he ever imagined that they could. The simple syllables would forever bind them as a single being, marking the birth of a new love, a new life.

This is just a dream...

Nothing real could ever be this beautiful, could it? But here he was, saying I do, joining with the man he had come to love.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.+.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Life had treated the couple well for the eight months that they had been joined. After saying their vows, nothing could separate the pair, be it a threat or an emergency. They worked together, worked hard, and earned themselves a comfortable living. Accommodated by a larger house, moving out of the cramped apartment that had been shared previously, indulging in foods that had once been off limits, going places once forbidden. The newly-weds lived their lives, day by day, never worrying about what the next day would hold for them, assuming that everything would work out well.  
Unfortunately, this ignorance was a serious flaw, and would lead to the downfall of their happiness. Despite the conditions the two had married in, the country in which the claimed citizenship was in a desperate situation, one requiring sacrifices to be made by the common man, a man such as Berwald. Strong, capable men, men that could fight, men that could win. The draft was unexpected, but no one was more surprised than the new lovers. The letter was like a death sentence, ripping apart the new relationship, just recently born, and leaving the tatters to be trampled on by each heartless day the pieces were separated.  
But what choice did they have? In all honesty, there wasn't a choice, and they both knew it as soon as they saw the military seal on the perfectly white envelope. Tino broke down at the mere sight of it, not even having to watch his husband open it to know what was inside. After the assumption was confirmed, the two held each other, relishing in the last bit of the time they had left together, falling asleep on the cold hardwood floor with tears in their eyes.  
Only one day, only a few hours, did the two have to say their goodbyes, their hearts wrenching with each withering gaze they would send to one another, each look, each touch accompanied only by a fresh wave of sorrow and tears. Then the Swede was gone, ripped from his home, his existence, by the large boat, filled with shells of broken dreams and murdered life, the beings also known as men.

.-.-.-.-.-.+.-.-.-.-.-.

Life was harder, in every way. Tino struggled to pay bills, taking on a second, third job in an attempt to accommodate the huge amount lost when the Swede left his occupation. Though he was sent a check, money that the nation payed to his beloved, it wasn't nearly enough to compensate. But even if it was enough money to match his previous living standard, no amount of it would ever replace the life that had been lost. The halls of the house, once so lively, so full of love, seemed haunted and hallowed, lacking any proof that anyone had lived here at all. The Finn stayed closer to the front of the house, maintaining himself mostly with only three rooms, the kitchen, living room, and bathroom. All other rooms were vacated, even the bedroom, strictly forbidden until the Swede returned. Tino slept on the couch, or the floor, never venturing back to the room, to the bed, that he once shared with his love. Each day was miserable, uncomfortable, and turbulent. But always, never fading, was the hope of waking up to find an ocean staring back at him, stroking his back lovingly, desperately pressing kisses to his pale skin, whispering words of love and eternity. But still, nothing, after nearly six months. No leave, no visit, no phone call. Only letters.

He had his box of letters in the passenger seat...

They went with him everywhere, being his only connection to sanity, each only a few words, scrawled down in the familiar hand of the man who starred in his heart.

“How are you Tino? I hope you are well, and just want you to know that I love you. I'm nearing madness without you, but thinking of you, working hard, waiting at home, it helps me keep my sanity as I struggle here on the battlefield. I wish I could get a letter from you, but I'm not allowed to disclose my location. I love you Tino, and I'm trying so hard to get this over with, so we can get back to living.”

“Today didn't go so well. I lost a comrade on the field. It made me think, what would you do? Surely he had a family of his own, or at least someone who loved him. What are they doing, how are they handling this loss? I wonder if any of the other men here ever wonder how the people at home would feel if they were to die? I think of you every second Tino, and I promise I'll be coming home. I don't know when, but I will. I love you, and I miss you, and I hope you are doing better than me.”

Each brought tears to Tino's eyes, and so many times he asked himself if he regretted the decision he had made, but never was he able to answer in the affirmative. Despite how much he hurt now, he knew that it would all be worth it once his other half returned, it was just a matter of time.

.-.-.-.-.+.-.-.-.-.

The blonde woke with a start, glancing around frantically for the source of the noise that had woken him. Again, the sound boomed into his home, this time recognized as the door. This confused Tino. No one had visited him in months, not since he had secluded himself from his friends, so who would be knocking? He didn't work today, surprisingly, so it wouldn't be his boss or a coworker... But then, who? He got up, and peeked out the window, noticing a military car parked outside of his home, resting on the curb adjacent to the sidewalk.  
His heart nearly flew into his mouth, the butterflies in his stomach surely giving it the power to do so. He rushed to the door, his smile already in place, ready to throw himself at his love, his husband, his other. The door flew open when he pulled on the knob, his excitement overcoming his concern for manners. The uniformed man stood, and Tino nearly wrapped his arms around him, but he froze, already knowing something was wrong.

This wasn't Berwald.

Sure enough, the face was unfamiliar to the Finn when he looked up into it, and he cocked his head in confusion and utter disappointment. He asked questions, who are you? Where is my husband? Why are you here? Not really expecting any answers, just rambling. The man, looking truly sympathetic, handed Tino a normal, average piece of paper. The teen frowned, opening it slowly, immediately recognizing the seal that had separated his love from him, glaring with distaste. Finally, he began to read, but he quickly lost the ability as tears came to his eyes, and only one word could be uttered.  
“No...” He whispered, shaking his head as if the action would disprove the truth of the paper. “No, he can't be...” He shuttered, and the uniformed man looked down.  
“Your husband fought honorably for his country, and... Died honorably for it as well.” He said quietly, and the blonde collapsed to his knees, shaking his head still.  
“No! He isn't.. He can't...” He sobbed out quietly, desperately, longing for this to be a bad joke, or an even worse dream. But nothing of the such happened, and the man spoke slowly, firmly.  
“His Squadron was sent out on a recon mission, but we were unaware that an ambush was waiting. Of the thirteen that went in, none came out. Not even bodies.” The man finished, saluting, and turning to leave. He glanced back at the whimpering blonde, and frowned in understanding. “Stay strong, he would have wanted you to.” And with that, the man was gone, leaving a broken boy behind him.  
Confused, miserable, longing, uncertain, sickened, so many words to describe what the blonde felt, but none quite fitting the correct emotion he felt. Was there a word for this? Heart break? That hardly seemed right. It felt more like a heart rip... Ripped to shreds, only tatters left behind to be devoured by the nearly tangible emptiness that the blonde was now acutely aware of. He stood on shaky legs, closing the door, closing out any hope that his heart once held, and stumbled clumsily to the room that had been forbidden until now. He fell to the bed, inhaling desperately, then sobbed as the familiar scent of the Swede, still faintly clinging to the sheets, registered in his grief-stricken mind.   
How could something, so precious, so absolutely necessary to Tino's being, disappear so completely, so effortlessly, without even a hint of difference in his life? Shouldn't he have felt something as his other half left this world completely? Some ache, some heart wrenching pain that would make his whole body shudder with pain? But it didn't matter now, all that mattered was taking in the last traces of the man he loved as much as he could. Curling up on the side of the bed that the Swede used to sleep, he shook helplessly, letting tears fall freely. Why had this room been forbidden? He could hardly remember, something like wanting to preserve the beauty of everything that they had been until they could be reunited? But what did it matter now? His love would never return, they would never be reunited, would never hug, and kiss, and hold, and make love, and sleep wrapped up in each other's arms. Never again would bliss enter their home, no more love, no more smiles, no more giggles, no more late night hot chocolate with cinnamon and honey. There would be no new wooden furniture, carved by the Swede, polished by the Finn with the help of his love. They would not even get to share their anniversary together, though the first one had already been missed, a letter being their only connection on that special day.

“Oh, Tino, I miss you so much, and I wish I could be with you on the celebration of one of the most special days in our lives, but know that I still love you as much as I did when you walked down that aisle and we said I do. You can never know how beautiful you looked that day, it was so perfect, your smiling, blushing, crying face, and all of those pretty flowers and ribbons covering you from head to toe. But even if you had worn a torn, filthy, hideous thing you had ripped from a dumpster, even it would have looked beautiful on you. I hope that, when I get back, I get to see your beautiful smiling face, and we can go out for dinner, and can have a dance, just like the wedding. And I hope I can hold you in my arms, kiss you, love you. Just remember that I am always thinking of you, and will never forget our special day. And I'm sorry that I couldn't write to you for your birthday, but I remembered that too. It's strange to think that you've reached nineteen, but I don't think the year has changed my feelings for you at all. If it has, it has only made them stronger. I love you Tino, and I hope to see you soon.”

But Berwald's wishes would never be met. The last thing he would ever get to embrace would be death, and Tino just hoped to the gods that it was an easy, quick one. He sobbed at the thought, hugging himself in a bid to stop his body from shaking, failing miserably. What was he supposed to do now? How was he meant to live? Could he take care of himself for the rest of his life? He had lost his soul mate, there would be no other. He couldn’t even bare the thought of letting someone else into his life, not now, not ever. He whimpered pathetically as he contemplated the rest of his empty existence, and eventually fell asleep to the familiar sound of his own sobs and shudders.

.-.-.-.+.-.-.-.

The preacherman said let us bow are heads and pray, lord please lift his soul, and heal this hurt...

Tino tried to quiet his sobs, feeling as if he was the dead one that everyone was silently praying for. A tired but still remorseful Lukas held him tightly, rubbing small circles into the younger's back, trying his best to give comfort to his friend, but barely being able to bite back sobs of his own. He too had known Berwald well. They all used to live together, once upon a time, almost like a big family, but they had slowly separated off, deciding to try living on their own. Lukas had returned to living with Mathias, and eventually Emil, Lukas's younger brother, followed suit. But Tino and Berwald had set up a life for themselves. They had truly become independent. But they always visited, despite claims of not liking the Dane, and they all remained close to one another. But a huge blow had been brought down on their family, the loss of a member. Now the four that remained mourned him together, but none nearly as much as Tino. No, not even close.  
The Preacher finally finished his speech, and the military men that had been in wait stepped forward, calling Tino to them. Though still shaking profusely, and tears fell in a steady stream, the teen stood, and walked forward.

And then they handed him a folded up flag, and he held on to all he had left of him, oh, and what could have been... 

Tino cried out horrendously as he clung to flag of the country that he once shared with his love, falling without grace to the floor. So many things they had planned, so many says lost, so many dreams shattered, all made final by the parting gift of the country. He sobbed pathetically, whimpering as people looked on with pity. Lukas, Mathias, and Emil all ran to him, wrapping him in so many arms that he lost count. But no amount of arms could ever replace the security and bliss found in the single pair that would never hold him again. Tino felt like he had been shot, the grief spilling out of him unbound, the finality of the situation crashing around him and reducing him to a mess of limbs and moisture on the ground. Lukas whispered words of comfort into his ear, though he was choking on sobs himself, but all of it fell on deaf ears. Tino felt his stomach lurch, and broke from the bone crushing hug just in time to release the contents of his stomach onto the floor. Where the mess had come from, he would never know; He hadn't eaten since he was told the news. But it came out, all at once, with a sickening sound, and several people scrambled to help clean it up. Mathias picked the small blonde up, bringing him to sit back down, and the Finn simply resumed sobbing. He felt his stomach lurch once more, but nothing came out this time, leaving him to dry heave in between the sobs.

.-.-.+.-.-. 

Baby why'd you leave me, why'd you have to go? I was counting on forever, now I'll never know. I can't even breath! 

Tino whimpered once more, as he whispered the words to the flag that he had yet to release. He was curled into himself, feeling cold, but knowing that it wasn't the fault of the temperature. Everything, from movement, speech, thought, even breathing, was laborious. The preacher said something about healing the hurt? How could he even begin to humor that idea? There were no medicines, no remedies for this illness. Tino would be left to suffer in this miserable existence until it slowly devoured even his health, bringing him to the same fate his love had met. Where had his bright, loving future gone? The years spent together, the son they had hoped to adopt? The pets? What had happened to the good morning kisses, the breakfasts, the spills and messes, the lunches, the days spent in the garden or at the pool, the dinners, the dances, the baths, the showers, the bedtime stories, the hugs, the kisses, the love, the goodnight kisses? Where had his life gone, his forever? Would he ever know the things that had been planned? No, never in this lifetime.

This can't be happening to me... This is just a dream.

Tino assured himself, knowing better than to truly believe the halfhearted optimism. But he knew that he needed to sleep, and it was enough comfort to allow him that small bit of regular life. But even his dreams were turned to nightmares, visions of the one lost, holding him, kissing him, caressing him, loving him, all to be torn away by the dawning of consciousness. 

.-.+.-.

Tino woke, tears already in his eyes. The beautiful nightmare fresh in his mind, the subtle touches, the flaxen hair, the strong muscles, the tight embrace, the whispered words, all haunting his mind, daring him to indulge, to believe in them. He shuddered, pulling his covers down, fingers brushing the flag that now served as another blanket in a bid to find the missing warmth and security that had been lost.   
It had been several weeks since the funeral. But 'memorial service' seemed a better title for it, due to the lack of a body to bury. Would it have been better if there had been a body? Would it have made Tino feel better to know that Berwald was at least properly buried? Or would it have hurt more? To see that face, so peaceful, as if in slumber, like the one he had witnessed in their time spent together? To have to say a final goodbye to his face as opposed to his memory? Tino shook his head, refusing to cry this early. It would only make him more tired than he already was, and he had a job to go to today.  
He got out of bed, his feet brushing against the carpet, and got dressed, pulling on several layers, despite the summer heat outside. He never felt warm anymore, no matter the temperature around him, he could shiver even in a sauna.  
He took his keys off the table, and went to get into his car, but hesitated for some reason. Was he forgetting something? He was fully dressed, he no longer ate breakfast, he had his wallet, his keys, he had brushed his hair and teeth... And yet, he felt like he needed to stay in the house. Confused, but a bit curious, he returned to his house, and called in sick. His boss, ever the sympathetic, allowed this, and Tino laid on his couch, not sure why he had skipped work.  
He sat, for hours, wondering if he was just being stupid, and eventually confirmed this thought in his mind, and got back up to prepare for his second job. Just as he returned from re-brushing his hair, there was a knock on his door. Tino frowned, wondering if his boss had decided to make sure he truly WAS sick. Shaking his head, he went to look out the window for his bosses car. To his surprise, there was a military truck parked, a man still sitting in the driver's seat.   
What could they want now? Hadn't they destroyed enough of his life? Perhaps they had found a body, and were bringing him ashes? Or a medal that his love had earned? The knock sounded yet again, and Tino tried to focus once more. He went to the door and took a deep breath, steeling himself, trying to bite back the tears that were already forming.  
Opening the door, he nearly gasped at the sheer height of the man. Tino found himself face to chest with whoever it was. But that uniform clad chest seemed painfully familiar. But Tino dared not humor the idea. But those big hands, holding the suitcase seemed terrible nostalgic... But there was no way...  
Tino finally looked up, and nearly screamed at the face he saw. No, it wasn't horrible mangled, though it was slightly bruised, nor was it disgustingly hideous, it was actually very handsome. What made the teen's small frame shake was how disturbingly akin the face was to that of his lost love. He crumbled, staring at the oh so familiar man, not allowing himself to believe what was so clearly displayed before him, though tears fell freely now.  
“Tino?” A gruff voice whispered, and the Finn in question simply shook his head, whimpering at the utter likeness of the voice. This was a cruel joke indeed. “Tino, are ya alrigh'?” The man asked, the concern genuine, making Tino sob.   
“No! Yo-You're dead! You're de...” He stuttered, trying to scoot back, into the safety of his home, but the man followed, his brow furrowing.  
“Tino...” He called again, getting on his knees, wrapping his arms around the smaller blonde, trying to control the shaking. Tino cried out, the security and comfort of the arms overwhelming him. Only one person would ever be able to elicit these emotions from the blonde, and the fact was slowly dawning on him.  
“Tino, Ah'm so sorry! Ah... My group was amb'shed, an' every'ne died 'cept me. They took me as a pris'ner, and Ah was stuck there. Bu' the war's over now! They le' all o' the pris'ners ou', and...” He tried to explain, but the Fin wasn't listening anymore. His arms flew up, returning the embrace with such a ferocity that it knocked the hat from the Swede's head. Never before had he felt such a desperate need to feel another person's warmth. He held on, as if for dear life.  
“You.. You're alive? You're alive... I… You...” He tried, trailing off into soft shakes of his head, not sure how to comprehend the situation.

This is just a dream...

Surely it had to be, nothing like this could ever be true. But never had the scent of this man been so realistic in his dreams, his explanation so cleverly crafted and plausible, his embrace so warm. And never, NEVER had Tino dreamed that the taller man would cry. But the moisture on his shoulder was proof of that. Was it real? Could he believe it? Did he dare?   
He pulled back, staring into the oceanic blue eyes, alive with a storm of emotions, set into the face of the one he had longed for for so long, a face that, though bruised, still seemed to be the most wonderful, handsome face he had ever beheld. Could this be a dream? No. This was real, just like the news of his death had been real. But that new proved untrue, if the man in front of him had anything to say about it. Tino shook his head once more, then crushed his lips to the larger male's desperately, ignoring his need for air, simply drinking in the familiar taste. If he had a choice, this kiss would never end, but there was so much he needed to do, air being first on the list.  
As he pulled away, he opened his eyes, staring at the man who was staring at him. He noticed, just briefly, that the military truck had pulled away, probably to give them some privacy in their moment of reunitement. The Finn shuddered, not sure if he should smile, cry some more, scream, dance, or simply stare.  
“Tino... Ah love ya... So much.” The Swede whispered, kissing his cheek lightly. “Ah missed ya so much...” He continued, kissing his jaw. The teen shuddered, but not with coldness for once.  
“I missed you too, so, so much... I thought you were... Dead... I...” He muttered, quietly, clinging to the taller with all of the strength that he could muster. Berwald grunted, kissing along his neck affectionately. Tino whimpered, arching into it lightly.   
“I's over... We can live agai' now Tino. We can... We can star' our lives all over agai'!” He announced, returning to the Finn's lips once more for a passionate kiss, before coming back down to his neck, punctuating his words with butterfly kisses. “An' we can pla' everything, an' adop' our son, an'...” He trailed all the way down his collar bone, making Tino writhe, but the smaller nodded.  
“And it can all be perfect! I love you Berwald! I love you so much!” He cried, crushing their bodies and lips together yet again. The Swede didn't seem reluctant in the least, in fact, he seemed rather appreciative. As they broke apart, panting from lack of air and intense excitement at seeing each other, they stared once more into each other's eyes, a single thought crossing both minds.  
“Tino... Can Ah... Can Ah make love to ya?” The Swede asked, whispering it for only the Finn to hear. Tino smiled, hugging him closer.  
“Of course you can! Why would you ever need to ask? But Berwald?” He trailed, and the Swede looked at him with concern, making the younger's smile grow. “Can we go inside? I don't really want the neighbors to think that we are exhibitionists...” He said, and the taller blushed, but nodded, picking Tino up and carrying him inside. He took a moment to take in the familiar house, though it seemed a bit darker than he remembered, and noticed that it barely seemed like it had been lived in since he left. Nothing was out of place, all of it neatly in place, just like when he had left, but every object was covered in a thick layer of dust, as if the Finn hadn't been cleaning anything. Sure enough, when he looked down, the younger was blushing.  
“I'm sorry... I know it's dusty... I haven't really had time to clean between jobs... And I wouldn't do it even on my days off. I sort of... I stopped living when you left...” The blonde admitted, feeling ashamed, but felt better when he got a kiss.  
“S'alrigh'. Doesn' matter.” Berwald assured him, continuing on into the bedroom. When he walked in, he found everything to be EXACTLY as he had left it, aside from the bed, which was messy, unmade, and covered by a large flag. Had Tino slept under this? It seemed so...  
Regardless, he sat the smaller on the bed, looking up into the gorgeous amethyst orbs, trying to take it all in, the fact that he was home, that the war was over, that his wife was still here, and even better, still loved him. He almost cried again, but bit it back, wanting to be strong for his long missed wife.  
Finally, he stretched out, kissing his wife once more, slowly pushing him back to lay on his back, pressed gently against the bed. The Finn whimpered, kissing desperately, not wanting this beautiful, dreamlike moment to end. He would have shuddered, the truth being that this was very dreamlike, but, as the last few months had proved, the things that should be “Just a Dream” often turned out to be the truest things of all.

**Author's Note:**

> Goodness, it feels like I wrote this so long ago, but truth be told it's only a couple of years old! This seems almost silly compared to what I'm capable of now, but I do still like it enough to repost it. Well, this was based loosely on Carrie Underwood's song "Just a Dream." I actually don't listen to country music, but my family does, so I've heard pretty much everything. And this song just kind of... spoke to me. And it demanded a SuFin story be written, so that's what happened.   
> If you want to find me elsewhere, here are some helpful links.
> 
> Deviantart: http://ask-nstac.deviantart.com/ (An ask profile, drawn answers)  
> Tumblr: http://www.tumblr.com/blog/ask-kuroriya (An ask profile, written answers)  
> Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Kuroriya 
> 
> Thank you for reading, and feedback is always appreciated! 
> 
> KuroRiya  
> 九六りや


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